Pictures
by silverivy13
Summary: Prussia's never been very good with goodbyes, so when he feels it's his time, he leaves something behind.


**A/N: I had to do this. Everyone in the fandom has a theory about Prussia and how he's still alive. This is mine. Written down. In great detail. I've been planning this for a long time. Again, I imagine it as a doujinshi and it's easier to write. So please read, review and enjoy! I worked hard, so don't be mean.**

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"But West, it's just one picture!"

"No! Go bother someone else!"

"Ah, c'mon! I'm not the most photogenic either! Just one! For old times sake." Prussia's voice has quieted and something in his tone startles Germany.

"V-very well, bruder. Just one."

"Yeah, alright!" He yanks Germany closer to him and holds up the small camera, a wide grin on his face. "C'mon West! Say cheese!" Flash.

"Bruder, be serious! I looked horrible in zat!"

"Shall we take another one then?!"

"No!"

"Kesesese! It was worth a shot! See ya later West! I'm gonna get these developed!"

"Vat's the rush?"

'I dunno… You never know when it'll all come crashing down on you, I guess. Better late than never! Gotta go!" The white-haired nation is gone before Germany can respond. Running to the front door, he opens it and shouts at the retreating figure.

"Be back in time for dinner! I don't vant you getting drunk again!" Instead of replying with an idiotic comment like always, Prussia just smiles. And for some reason, Germany's heart feels a pang.

"Bye West." And he's gone. Huh… he'll be back for dinner. Germany thinks. So why does it sound so… so final?

…

Ring ring ring. The man whom the phone belongs to groans, rolling over. Ring ring ring. "Ugggggh. Bonjour? Qui est-il?"

"Francis?"

"Allemagne? What is it? Do you realize how late it is? Oh wait, you would. Why are you calling?"

"I vanted to know if Gilbert is vith you."

"Non, I have not seem him since very early this morning. Why?"

"He hasn't come back yet. I vas a bit vorried that you all had gone drinking and vere passed out drunk."

"Aw, you were worried about us?'

"No I vas vorried I vould have to take care of everything. Like alvays." He accentuates the last few words.

"Well sorry to disappoint but he is not here."

"Vhere could he be zen? I've called all his other drinking friends as vell as his other contacts. No one has seen him."

"He's probably gone a spiritual journey."

"A vat?"

"You know, where one travels the globe searching for the perfect beer, the perfect sex, the perfect partner." All he's met with is dial tone. Francis chuckles. "I suppose I knew he'd do that."

Days pass, and still no sign of Prussia. By now, Germany has begun to get actually worried. No one has seen him and he's contacted no one. Finally, Germany calls a meeting, inviting those who saw him the day he disappeared. Eventually, Austria, Hungary, America, Denmark, Japan, both Italies, Spain and a very drunk France are in the room.

"What happened to him?" Austria asks, a hint of disgust in his voice.

"Don't mind him!" Spain replies cheerily. "We went out for drinks and Francis got a bit carried away. Lo siento." Austria just rolls his eyes as Hungary speaks up.

"So what have you called us here for, Ludwig?"

"Vell, as many of you know, Gilbert has gone missing. I ignored it the first week, but he still hasn't contacted me or given me any signs he's alright. Have any of you seen him?"

"Not since the day he took a photo with us!" Italy replies happily. "Romano protested but I convinced him!"

"Wait, you both took a picture with him?"

"Sí!"

"Don't remind me!" Romano snaps, crossing his arms.

"So did we!" Denmark exclaims.

"Yeah man, we took the best pictures! That was awesome!" America and Denmark share a high-five as the other assembled nations voice that they took pictures with Prussia as well.

"So ve all took pictures?"

"Did you notice anything strange the past few days, Rudwig?" Japan asks quietly.

"Nein, vhy do you ask?"

"Think hard."

"Mmmmm… Oh! The night he disappeared, ven I voke up, ze security system vas off." His eyes widen. "His room!" Germany shoots up and runs down the steps to the basement, throwing the door open. Sitting on the bed is a small box, along with a piece of paper folded up on top of it. Walking over to it, he picks up the two items and brings them upstairs.

"What do you have there?" Spain asks.

"I don't know, let me look." Germany sets the box down and unfolds the paper. After reading the first few words, a choking gasp echoes from his lips. Surprised faces look at the blond nation, shocked by the uncharacteristic motion. He puts the paper down and looks away. "I… I cannot read zis."

"Why not, dude?" America takes it off the table. His carefree smile falls. "Oh…" he breathes.

"Well what does it say?" Austria says impatiently, and America sends him a glare so harsh, it sends shivers up the elder nation's spine.

"Germany, can I read it?"

"Ja." The large man is sitting down, holding his head in his hands.

"Um, my accents ain't great, but I'll do my best. Some of this is in our native languages.

_Dear everyone,_

_If you are reading this, that means I've disappeared. Sorry to say it, but this time for good. It's not one of those spiritual journey things, sorry Francis. I've felt it coming for a long time now, I guess. Ever since the end of World War I. I wonder if this is what Holy Rome felt, and know I get why he didn't want to see anyone._

At this, Italy stiffens, eyes growing as wide as saucers, tears growing in them. Romano pats his brother gently on the back, knowing how much the small boy had meant to Veniziano.

_I always knew it would happen someday. We all do. But I didn't think it'd be this soon! I have a bunch of stuff I still wanna do, dammnit! But there ain't anything I can do. Sorry I just left. I'm not too great with goodbyes. Don't like 'em. Too sad. So instead I left these:_

_Denmark: Jeg gik altid til dig at klage over lillebrors kulde. Du var en stor kammerat. Fantastik trio evigt!_

_Japan: _私はあなたが私よりもドイツに近いでした知っている。それはクールだ。あなたは、強力な小さな男、男だ。さて、私の弟に気をつけろ！

_Austria: Wir kämpften eine Menge. Und Sie waren wirklich stecken. Aber du bist mein Lieblings Aristokrat!_

_Hungary: Gondolja talán üt azzal a serpenyőben, ha tudta, hogy én ezt. Heh. Hiányozni fogsz tartozik._

_Romano: Non mi hai mai piaciuto, posso ottenere che. Penso ancora che tu sei carino._

_Italy: Ita-chan, sei semplicemente meraviglioso! Così piccolo e carino e piacevole! Non ho idea di come si e Romano siete fratelli. E 'stato bello combattere al tuo fianco! Mi mancherai! Ci dispiace per l'inclusione Santo Roma nella lettera. So che lo amava._

_France: Peu importe ce que, peu importe où ou comment ou quand vous voulez toujours venir boire avec moi. Merci pour être toujours là. Bad Trio Touch!_

_Spain: Amigo, usted anotó con Romano. Él es lindo. Pero un poco cruel. Buena suerte, hermano! Una vez más, siempre fuiste conmigo beber vino o de fiesta y no te y Francia puede agradecer lo suficiente._

_America: You are one badass nation, my friend. You're really young, and yet you managed to totally dominate the war. I don't mind much, and I don't blame you. We're friends, after all. It's not your fault man. Don't blame yourself._

_Germany: Oh kleiner Bruder. Wo finde ich überhaupt anfangen? Ich kann nicht wirklich an nichts denken. Ich denke, gut ... Dank. Ich denke, ich werde dich vermissen die meisten. Ich liebe dich._

_Well guys, looks like this is it. And I have a feeling those photos won't be what I wanted. I'm starting to get transparent now. So I'll leave this here. I'll miss everyone. These were a great 1000 years. A great life. I love all you guys. I only have one request. Don't… don't forget me, okay? Thanks. Bye._

_- The KIngdom of Prussia, Gilbert Beilschmidt_

Silence. It slowly engulfs the room and for a long moment no one speaks. It's abruptly broken by Italy, no longer able to hold in his tears. Choking sobs echo from the boy, for Holy Rome, for the letter, and for yet another nation he feels he will never see again. Romano hugs his brother, a rare occasion, and allows him to sob into his chest. Hungary turns away, burying her face in Austria's shoulder. France, now very sober, clasps hands with Spain, and the two offer silent prayers for their friend. Denmark's bright smile is sullen, a grimace displayed. Japan simply looks away. America drops onto the couch, in shock.

"I... I never wanted this. I didn't want him to... To just disappear." Germany's fists clench and he shoots up, grabbing the collar of Ameria's bomber jacket.

"You did zis!" He cries, shaking the blond man. "You killed him!"

"Allemagne, calmez vous!" France yells, standing up.

"No, dude." America says quietly. "It's fine. Germany. I'm sorry. I never wanted this." He repeats. "I never wanted this. He was my friend. I never wanted this." It's almost as if he's trying to convince himself. For a long time, Germany stares at America, who stares back. Finally Alfred can't bear to see the immense pain in Germany's eyes, and looks away. He's dropped back onto the couch, and Germany sinks onto his knees. Italy gasps and he and Japan rush over to him.

"Germany? Are you okay?" The large nation looks up and pained expressions cross all the nation's faces. Silent tears are trickling from the burly man's eyes, a sight no one has ever seen before. Italy gulps before putting his arms around the nation. A warm hug engulfs Germany, and for a moment, no one speaks. Then Germany speaks up.

"The box. Open it."

"Yes!" Italy takes the box and opens it, before gasping and dropping it, scattering the contents everywhere.

"These are…" Denmark trails off as he picks up one of the photos.

"The pictures we took with him." Japan picks up.

"But…" Austria breathes.

"He's not in them." Hungary sobs. Indeed, he's not. All of the pictures with the nation's smiling faces or awkward faces are ruined. The carefree white-haired nation is missing. That wide smile they had all come to love is missing. The bright red eyes full of life are missing. The always optimistic outlook is missing. The man they knew and loved is missing. France and Spain have their arms around air. Hungary and Austria are glaring at nothing. Denmark and America are making funny faces and bunny ears with an empty space between. Japan is just smiling and standing there, the laughter of the one opposite him faded. Romano is looking away pissed and Italy's arm hangs in the air, as if frozen. Germany looks as though he's falling, leaning against a man no longer there. This is too much.

"Vhere is Brutus?"

"Your dog? I wirr go fetch him." A moment later, Japan is followed by a large German shepard, tail wagging happily as it strolls into the room. However, sensing the mood in a way only animals can, it stops and walks over to its master. It sits down in front of Germany as the man beckons it over, Italy returning to his seat. The large nation strokes the dog's head, who in turn licks his hand.

"Brutus," Germany begins. "You have been my companion for hundreds of years. Through all the wars and fighting, you've served me vell, and ven my time has come, I vill no doubt meet you, vaiting for me. I must ask you to serve me a final time." As the nations realize what Germany intends to do, some smile, some sob harder, but no one rejects it. "You've lived a very long life, and I love you. But I must save the one who raised me, who fought with me, who stuck with me. Ich muss meinen Bruder zu retten." As if knowing what the German wishes to do, the dog simply licks his hand and bows his head. "Danke, Brutus. Danke." And then the dog slumps over. The large centuries old dog finally gets the peace he so rightfully deserves. As he fades away, Germany smiles faintly. And again, there is silence.

"...did it work?" Italy asks quietly.

"I don't know." The German admits. "I don't zink anything like zis has happened before."

"Ja, none that I can remember." Austria says.

"Nor I." Japan agrees. "In arr my years, never has there been a case rike this. I think we should wait."

"For how long?" America voices the question no one wants to ask. For the millionth time in the meeting, silence meets his question. But that silence is broken by the sound of feet ascending the basement stairs. Each person jumps up, hoping and praying beyond belief that the one who comes through the door will be-

"Gilbert." Germany breathes as the man slams the door open. Wild-eyed, he whips his head from side to side, taking in the scene. The box with the pictures, the open letter, the teary-eyed Hungary and Italy, both of which are crying again, the last glimpse of the dog on the ground.

"West." He says, in shock. "Why?" That's all he can say. That's all he can think. And when his little brother unexpectedly grabs him, pulling him into a warm rib-crushing embrace, all he can do is hug back.

"You're my brother. Do I need a reason?"

"You're being surprisingly tender."

"I zought you were dead! For good! I am not ze most affectionate or kind nation, but you are my brother! Ze only one I've ever had. I don't vant you to die. So stay here." Smiles are on all of the nation's faces at Germany's heartfelt speech. They pile on as a large group hug initiates.

"Hey no!" Prussia exclaims. "Stop it, stop hugging me! Stop being so goddamn nice an-and teary and stop crying! I'm supposed to be dead, not here an-and..."

"Just be honest, Gil." Spain whispers. Prussia offers him a weak smile.

"I'm..." He gulps before continuing. "I'm glad you guys actually missed me." A wide grin is on his face, a look of relief and happiness appearing. His own tears begin to fall.

"Of course we did!" Italy says.

"I'm really sorry, man." America says quietly. Prussia just laughs.

"Relax Al. I said in the letter, I don't blame you guys. I don't blame anyone. It happens to all of us. Even ze awesome me! Kesesese-" Germany cuts his laugh off.

"Don't do zis again, bruder." Prussia chuckles, letting out a small content sigh.

"I won't. Promise. Ich liebe dich, West."

"Ich liebe dich."

_Fin_.

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**Translations:**

**Denmark: I always went to you to complain about little brother's coldness. You were a great friend. Fantastic trio forever!**

**Japan: I know you were closer to Germany than me. That's cool. You're a strong little guy, man. Watch out for my brother, okay?**

**Austria: We fought a lot. And you were really stuck-up. But you're my favorite aristocrat!**

**Hungary: You'd probably hit with a frying pan if you knew what I'm doing. Heh. I'll miss you.**

**Romano: You never liked me, I get that. I still think you're cute.**

**Italy: Ita-chan, you're simply wonderful! So small and cute and nice! I have no idea how you and Romano are brothers. It was great to fight by your side! I'll miss you! Sorry for the inclusion of Holy Rome in the letter. I know that you loved him.**

**France: No matter what, no matter where or how or when you still want to come and drink with me. Thank you for always being there. Bad Touch Trio!**

**Spain: Dude, you scored with Romano. He's cute. But kind of cruel. Good luck, brother! Again, you always went with me drinking wine or partying and I can't thank you and France enough.**

**Germany: Oh little brother. Where can I find even start? I can not really think of anything. I think, well ... thanks. I think I'll miss the most. I love you.**


End file.
